


lightning crackles at our every step

by arachnistar



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnistar/pseuds/arachnistar
Summary: When the Dancy Reagans need an emergency replacement for their big show, Rosa reluctantly steps up to the plate. Somehow it all turns out much better than she ever could have expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an [AV Club interview](http://www.avclub.com/article/brooklyn-nine-nines-joe-lo-truglio-and-stephanie-b-225280) where Steph said if she could have any episode, she’d want one where one of the girls in Gina’s troupe got sick and Rosa needed to replace her. 
> 
> With a Dianetti twist because the world needs more of it.

“Rosa Diaz!” Gina announces to the precinct, her voice booming and grand. It’s enough to make Rosa look up from her work. “I come to you with the greatest honor you will _ever_ receive in your life.” A pause for dramatic effect. “You have been given the extraordinary privilege to join the Dancy Reagans for a single night.”  

“Pass.” Rosa looks back down at her work, missing the brief frown that flickers across Gina’s face.

“Rosa.” She says again and when Rosa still doesn’t look up, Gina grasps Rosa’s chin and makes her look up. Gina is suddenly much closer than before and it’s hard to concentrate like this, with Gina’s face mere inches from her own, the scent of her fruity shampoo a cloud around them. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you pass now, your life will be a mere shadow of what it could have been.”

Rosa rolls her eyes. “I’ll survive.” 

This close, Rosa can see the disappointment fly rapidly across Gina’s face, the pucker of her lips and the drop of her brow, and it’s a lot like a punch to the gut, the way it sidelines Rosa and makes her core tighten in preparation.  

 

“Fine. I didn’t want to tell you this but Dancy Reagans  _needs_  you. I need you.”

Rosa is certain she’s going to regret this but when Gina is this close, asking her for help, it’s hard to turn her down. Life was much easier before Rosa got friends and feelings.

“Why?” 

Victory gleams in Gina’s eyes as she smirks. It’s a good look, even when it’s at her expense, Rosa decides, and then instantly squashes the traitorous thought.

When Gina draws back, Rosa misses Gina’s proximity, which is another traitorous thought.

“We have a huge show this weekend but Abby got the flu and isn’t going to make it. She’s at home ‘resting’. Can you believe that selfish bitch? So now we need a replacement.”

“Can’t you just do it without her?”

“The symmetry will be thrown off.”

“Then cancel the show.”

“Rosa! Does Rhianna just cancel shows? Does Beyoncé?” Gina pauses and when Rosa doesn’t say anything, she continues, “No, they don’t. These people are coming to watch us perform. I can’t just _cancel_. It would _ruin_ their lives.”

Rosa sighs. “Okay, fine, then why are you asking me?” 

“Who else would I ask?” She leans back and gestures around the precinct. “One of these left-footed losers?”

Jake peeks up from his work. “Hey! I’m a great dancer! I took -”

“3 years of tap. I know, boo. But this is a woman’s-only dance troupe and you are not a woman.”

He tilts his head and then nods. “Got me there.”  

Gina directs her gaze back to Rosa.

“I did ballet. I don’t do the type of dance you do.”

“We’ll teach you our routine. I know you can learn the moves fast. And in the end, all you have to do is put your heart into the performance.” 

“Eww.” Rosa’s face scrunches up. The only thing she puts her heart into is catching bad guys and even then she would rather pull her own nails off than refer to it as such.  

Gina jolts forward and grabs her hands. “Please Rosa, you’re our only hope.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll help.” Rosa’s heart leaps in her chest at the sudden joy that blossoms on Gina’s face. It’s blinding, she’s like the goddamn sun every time she’s in a room but especially now, luminous and bright, everyone else mere planets (or insignificant asteroids, looking at Hitchcock and Scully) around her. “But  _no one_  from the squad is allowed to be there.”

“Aww, come on, Rosa, we all want – “

Charles never gets to the end of his sentence as a stapler soars through the air and hits him square in the chest.

“ _No one_.”

Gina stretches out her hand. “Deal.”

\--

The first rehearsal is a trainwreck.

Gina and the other women in her troupe perform the dance routine with lots of waving and shimmying while Rosa watches, arms crossed, and feels her stomach turn at the thought of performing these moves in front of actual people. For Gina’s benefit, she waits until the end of the routine to say something.

“I’m out.”

“Rosa!” Gina saunters over to her. “You can’t just walk out!”

Rosa raises an eyebrow. “Watch me.”

“Nu-uh. We _shook_ on it. You are bound to this by something much larger than any of us. And if you walk away from us, the universe _will_ punish you for it.”

Rosa bites her lip. She doesn’t believe in the type of cosmic scales Gina is talking about, but she does believe in holding true to her promises. The important ones, the ones she makes with friends, and Gina is her friend. She waits a beat and then drops her shoulders.

“Let’s run through it again.”

Gina claps her hands and rushes back to her spot. This time, when Rosa watches, she tries to study the moves the same way she used to in ballet school, with an eye for how every limb moves to create a cohesive, brilliant whole. It’s a little different, each girl throws in her own twist to the same moves and Rosa is certain if you compared this time to the previous, there would be variations. Not like ballet, which values discipline and precision above all else.

After an hour’s worth of runs where Rosa slowly steps through the motions of the first dance to memorize them, they attempt their first real run-through. The music kicks in and they start dancing. Rosa’s movements feel robotic and stiff, precise but hollow in execution and lacking the flair of the others.

“Stop! Stop!” Gina yells. The music cuts off and she turns to Rosa with arms crossed. “You have to put your heart into it!”

“I’m _trying_.” Rosa snarls back.

“No, you’re not or I wouldn’t have stopped us all.” She steps up to Rosa and stabs her finger into Rosa’s chest. Anyone else would have a broken finger right about now, or they would have never dared in the first place, but Gina seems unperturbed by the death glare Rosa is sending her way. “Find your fire, Rosa! Your passion! You need something to fuel your dance and lift it into the heavens. What’s driving you right now?”

“Well, I’m feeling really pissed right about now.”

Gina just nods decisively and steps back from Rosa. “Good. Use that.”

When the music starts from the top once more, Rosa channels all the anger into her dance moves. This time, her steps are less precise, but there’s a rage fueling them, giving her energy and letting her forget her discomfort.

At the end of the song, Gina nods in approval and Rosa feels an unfamiliar warmth rush through her.

\--

As the week progresses, Rosa finds herself looking forwards to the evening rehearsals with Gina and her troupe. It’s a good work-out, it’s surprisingly enjoyable (not quite as much as breaking stuff but that’s hard to beat), and she likes the extra time with Gina away from the precinct and their friends.  

“It’s perfect!” Gina crows after one particularly good round the night before the big show. “ _We_ are perfect! Let’s get drinks.”  

“You buying?” One of the other women in the troupe, Taylor, asks.

Gina snorts. “In your dreams.”

They end up at a bar, a different one than Shaw’s but Deidre swears by this one and its alcohol. Everyone orders drinks and then a second round and it isn’t that bad, sitting with Gina’s friends even though they never quite stop babbling. Taylor and Jenny and Deirdre eventually peel off to the dance floor – fortunately taking their chatter with them, they’re decent people but Rosa has limits – and Rosa is left with just Gina for company. For a while, Gina types away on her phone and Rosa drinks her beer in peace and then Gina looks up at Rosa with a knowing smile.

“You’re having a good time.”

Rosa knows she isn’t talking about the bar.   

“It’s not terrible.” She concedes after a pause.

“Changed your mind on the squad coming?”

“Nope.”

“Their lives will just have to be less spectacular.” Gina shrugs, then tilts her head. “Suppose it’s for the best. I’m sure a legendary performance like this would literally cause someone like Hitchcock to explode. And not in his usual way.”

Rosa barks a laugh and Gina smiles, a little smug but mostly fond. She then sets in on a story detailing her latest and greatest exploit in crashing the wedding of some bigwig on Wall Street (she doesn’t remember his name, it’s not important anyway – she only crashes these weddings for the ambience and catty gossip, “you would not believe the things billionaires say, Rosa!”).

For all that Rosa generally prefers drinking in silence, she leans closer to listen to Gina’s story.  

\--

“You want me to wear _that_?”

Rosa stares at the spangled leotard Gina is holding out for her. It’s a fluorescent green, like someone called in the Ghostbusters and then forgot to clean up the residue, and covered in glittery scales across the chest.

It’s also the night of the show and this is the first Rosa has heard or seen of this particular piece. She had known some type of uniform would be required, performances always had them, but not this. Suddenly she very much wants to pull out because there’s no way anyone is ever seeing her in this suit. Not if they plan to live afterwards and unfortunately killing the entire audience and then the Dancy Reagans is not an option.

“It’s required. It’ll make us transcendental.” Gina leans forward, enunciating each syllable as if that’ll make Rosa agree, “ _Trans-cen-dent-al_ , Rosa.”

“Nope.”

“Transcen – “

“ _No_.”

Gina frowns and gestures at Rosa’s current ensemble, black jeans paired with her leather jacket. “Well, you can’t go out looking like that. You’ll stick out. And what’s the big deal? You wear a police uniform for work sometimes. That’s a million times dorkier than this.”

“It’s sparkly.”

“So are your medals.”

“ _And_ bright green.”

Gina is quiet for several moments, glancing at the garment and then back at Rosa, contemplative frown on her face. “What if I changed it to black?”

Still not great, but… “Better.”

“Great!” Gina beams and tosses the offending leotard to the side. She pulls a black spandex suit, no glittery scales or offensive sparkles in sight, from her bag and hands it to Rosa. “Here you go.”

Rosa’s eyes narrow. “You were never going to make me wear the green one.”

Gina shrugs. “Well if you agreed to it, I wouldn’t have complained. But, no, you’re right, that wasn’t the plan.” She winks. “It’s called negotiating, sweetheart.”

Despite her annoyance, Rosa can admit she’s impressed. If Gina hadn’t flounced off that moment to address other concerns, she might have kissed that smirk right off her face.  

\--

On stage, the lights shine bright and hot against her skin. Rosa has never suffered stage fright and she doesn’t now; looking out at the darkened audience, all she feels is a tense readiness in her muscles. She knows these moves and for all her initial reluctance in performing them, she knows the Dancy Reagans are going to nail this.

Rosa glances over at Gina before the show starts. The other woman shoots her a wide grin and her heart skips a beat.

The music begins and they start to move to the beat, hips shaking, arms moving. Rosa lets all her attention shift into the music and the other dancers. Where she would have once felt uncomfortable dancing like this in front of people, the hours of rehearsal have made the moves natural, second nature.

Adrenaline courses through her as they go through the set, delicious and exhilarating, energizing her motions, even more so than the intense rehearsals had. It’s not quite as good as chasing down criminals and knocking them on their asses, but it reminds Rosa of how much she once enjoyed ballet, the performance and the tight control it gave her over her body.

Of course then Ms. Miriam had ruined it for her – but this, this is good. It’s freedom and strength and control without the nagging voice of her old teacher there to critique everything about her.

After the show, the audience bursts into applause. Rosa takes her bow and spends the time watching Gina instead of the roaring audience, from the corner of her eye.

Gina is eating it up, taking massive bows with flourishing hands, screaming, “Thank you New York!” at the top of her lungs. She’s glowing too, from the sweat of the performance but also from sheer exuberance, and it’s hard to imagine how anyone could have eyes for anyone else tonight.

Gina meets Rosa’s eyes briefly. There’s something heated in the gaze, Rosa can’t look away. Subconsciously she licks her lips and watches as Gina follows the motion.

For a moment, Rosa thinks Gina is going to move to her – or that she’ll be the one to approach and they’ll just kiss on this stage. Her heart hammers away in her chest, not just from the exertion of the dance but from something more, something deep and wanting.

Then the crowd gives another roar, Gina gives Rosa a dazzling smile, and her eyes are back on the cheering audience, the moment broken. Rosa blinks several times, thrown by the sudden rush of feelings, and looks away from Gina.

Backstage, they change out of the spandex jumpsuits, Rosa grateful to slip back into her leather jacket. Gina walks over then, still wearing the same wide grin from the stage. Her voice, when she speaks, is still a little too loud.

“Was this the best night of your life or what?”

“Or what.” Rosa shoots back. She’ll never admit it but she did have a good time. She –

Gina stretches a finger out and places it on Rosa’s lips and all thoughts fly promptly from her head. Electricity crackles through her then, her entire body stilling in preparation.

Gina’s voice drops into something huskier and quieter. “Well, why don’t I _make_ it your best night?”

She takes a step closer, hand moving to cradle Rosa’s face, and then their lips slot together like they were made to fit this way. The rhythm of their beating hearts sets the motions of their bodies, the slide of Gina’s hands into her hair, the turn of Rosa’s tongue in her mouth, the curl of fingers into hair and skin. Rosa pulls Gina closer by her waist, melting against the woman, flames burning beneath her skin.

When Gina pulls back, it takes a moment for Rosa’s mouth to remember how to work. Fortunately it looks like Gina is similarly speechless.

Finally she manages to clear her throat and then, to cover up the embarrassing length of time when she couldn’t speak, Rosa smirks and says, “Might take a little more than that to make it my _best_ night.”

Gina’s eyes gleam. “That can be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://proofthatihaveaheart.tumblr.com/).


End file.
